Fright Night
by Kaffee und Sahne
Summary: Oneshot. Happy Halloween! Alfred pulls a prank on Arthur, and the Brit decides to get revenge. America, England, and a friend. Rated for British language.


**OMG I actually did a holiday fic that was posted on the actual holiday! Clap for me! -claps-**

**Please enjoy. I suck at humor, XD so don't hate me if it's not funny....**

**Happy Halloween, everyone!**

* * *

The plan was perfect. Everything was set in place. The lights were out in Arthur's home, and Alfred was ready for an ambush. He sat on the floor around the corner of the entry hall, breathing heavily in anticipation. The soft crunch of gravel outside signaled the arrival of Alfred's brother. He grinned.

The door opened slowly, the sounds of Arthur's boots echoing through the entryway. It was followed by a heavy sigh.

"I swear, that woman has too much time on her hands..." the Brit muttered seemingly to himself. Alfred heard a keyring land on the hall bureau and stood silently, prepared for what would come next. The sound of the hall closet...

"AHHHHH!"

The screech echoed horribly in the hall and Alfred thought he would suffocate from his choking laughter. He rounded the doorway and came face to face with a horrified-looking Arthur, on his backside in the hallway with a plastic skeleton draped over his body.

The British man scrambled out from under the prop and stood furiously, his fiery gaze locked on Alfred. The American attempted to replace his laughs with fear, but to no avail.

"Ah man, I should have gotten a picture!" he exclaimed backing away from his brother as the other blond started chanting in some foreign language, surrounded by an eerie violet glow and an ominous wind.

"What... the bloody hell... was that for, Alfred?" the Brit muttered, the younger male's name dripping with contempt. His spell shimmered at his feet.

Alfred squeaked in fear, his chuckles finally dissipated. He stepped back and tripped, landing on the first step of the staircase. "C-come on, Arthur! I-I'm just gettin' in the spirit for Halloween!"

Within seconds, Arthur had surprisingly recalled the spell and was stepping over Alfred and onto the staircase. "Hmph. Just don't let it happen again." And with that, the Brit disappeared upstairs.

Alfred stayed where he sat, disbelieving. Why would Arthur forgive him so easily? Surely something was up. Ah, but for now, dinnertime. The American stood and made his way out of his brother's house, determined to get home.

* * *

After a fulfilling dinner of macaroni and cheese, Alfred headed up to his bedroom to sleep. The rumpled bed looked inviting and the blond sighed in content, stripping down to his boxers and sliding under the blankets.

Alfred curled up happily. His day had been an absolute success and he was ready for some rest and relaxation. He removed his glasses, felt around for his bedside table, and set them down. With another sigh, he opened his eyes to take in his comfortable surroundings, and froze.

"Hello, America."

The blond stared in horror at the other in his bed, shaking slightly before breaking out in a blood-curdling scream and scrambling away from the intruder. Huddling in a corner, Alfred willed his mind to believe that the person wasn't in his bed, hell, even his house! The sound of heavy footsteps brought the American's attention back down to earth and Alfred squeaked in fear. His scream echoed in the night.

"I don't want to become one with you!!!"

* * *

The next day, Arthur sat in content silence over his tea. He eyed a scone momentarily before deciding against it.

"Thank you, Russia. Revenge is sweet, wouldn't you say?"

The hulking country grinned happily and fingered the faucet pipe in his hand, replying in a seemingly cute voice.

"Just remember you owe me your soul~!"

* * *

**Seriously. What's scarier than Russia in your bed? ILUIVAN.**

**Fun fact for y'all, Russians actually don't celebrate Halloween. They're uber superstitious so they refuse to believe in ghosts and ghouls and stuff like that. They actually dress up like cartoon characters and mascots on New Years.**

**Reviews appreciated, not demanded, and flames will be used to stoke the fire of Mrs. Lovett's oven.**


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